Belonging In-Between

It has been more than a year since our first official introduction to the Wellness Kampung community in May 2023, and months since the end of the community showcase in March. But does it all really stop here? I remember during the stage of the project where the artworks were mostly completed and we were preparing for the showcase in March – I was constantly being reminded that my time with the seniors would be dwindling soon, and then wondering, “How is all this going to end?”

tides was so much more than an exhibition of artworks. It was a long, laborious and enriching journey made of open sharing, deep discussions, tender conversations and lots of love and laughter with a group of eight brave souls and their community. Being a part of this project made me think about the word mearcstapas, an Old English word – I came across reading Culture Care: Reconnecting with Beauty for Our Common Life by Makoto Fujimura, when he talks about the role of artists – that translates to “border stalkers”. In the chapter ‘Leadership From The Margins’, Fujimura shares about the value of artists being able to exist in between different cultural spaces and the meaningful impact that can have on the communities in those spaces. He says that “artists learn to be adaptable and blend into an environment while not belonging to it, which also requires learning to speak new tribal languages.” Working with the Yishun community made me think about mearcstapas and this particular statement a lot.

“Learning to speak new tribal languages” is a big part of the work. In the context of tides, the “tribal languages” not only includes the literal languages spoken by the eight seniors – English, Mandarin and dialects like Hokkien, Teochew and Cantonese – but also the language of the Wellness Kampung, Yishun Health, ArtsWok and each of their respective communities. In learning to speak the “tribal language” of the Yishun community, it helped me to bond quickly with members of the community, gaining not only their trust but also their warmth and love as they welcomed me into their home. Despite never having lived in Yishun, I quickly developed a sense of belonging at the Wellness Kampung, more so than in my own neighbourhood.

While my position as one of the artists for this project has offered me the valuable first-hand experience of a border stalker, to “blend into an environment while not belonging to it”, this state of existing in-between also created an internal tug of war. If I’m only meant to pass through, blending in but not belonging, what does it mean to leave? Blending in but not belonging was a difficult state of being to navigate, as I found myself constantly struggling to proportion how much of myself to give and receive, attempting to straddle the boundaries just right. Should I share about how I spent my day last weekend? How much should I share? Will this detail be too much? But the thing about forming meaningful relationships – which is a big part of working with the community – is that the line simply cannot be drawn so clearly.

During one of the pockets of quiet time, Mary, the Wellness Kampung centre coordinator, shared with me that she could not wait for the showcase to be over. She said because she sees us all working so hard, she just wants it to be over so that we can rest and take it easy. Then she said, “But when it’s over, I will also be very sad lah because I will miss you all.” Members of the Wellness Kampung expressed similar sentiments in other instances, and soon enough, I too started to mourn the impending goodbye as if it were the end of our relationship and time together. In trying to practise being a border stalker, I came to realise that belonging in between does not mean putting up different kinds of walls or boundaries, but it actually is about letting down all of them. It is about allowing our lives to converge so that the connections formed can be sincere and genuine, and take on their own season. It also meant that I cannot ever truly leave and the relationships formed do not end when the project does, and this brought me comfort.

Mary once said to me: “在765你什么都不用带，带你的心就可以了.” (At 765, you don’t have to bring anything, just your heart.) If the heart was calculative, working with the community will simply be just that, working. But if the heart was generous, it changes what it means to belong in between and how the relationships with the community are formed. For me, this is the magic that I take away from being a part of Both Sides, Now in Yishun. It reflected to me where my heart was and how that directly affects the work and the art. It showed me that belonging in between is not a place of restriction but generosity. Nonetheless, I will remain homesick for the heart of the Yishun community made up of Mary, the seniors and its residents – the people who made me feel like I belonged, even for a little while.

About Stacy Huang

Stacy is the assistant artist of Both Sides, Now 2023-24 at Wellness Kampung @765 Nee Soon Central. Based in Singapore, she identifies herself as an artist, educator and mediator. She combines the use of art pedagogies, play, and process-based methodologies to facilitate conversations and individualistic expression in community-based settings. Her work often culminates in the form of installations, performance, and mixed media drawings. She most recently co-created a community floor mural with twelve youths as part of the Arts @ Macpherson Trail.